Drunken Confessions
by TheGreyLadyy
Summary: 'So, he loses himself in the moment, trying to convey everything he's been holding back for the past three years in that single kiss, hoping that when she wakes, things won't go back to the way they were.'


_A/N: Hooray for writer's block! Yeah, I'm pretty much stuck on my other two stories and this idea just popped in my head all of a sudden. And we all know that when an idea pops into your head, there's nothing you can do but oblige. So, enjoy! And remember, reviews are appreciated, but hey, I'm not forcing you into leaving a review if you don't want to._

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**Drunken Confessions**

It is after four in the morning when James stumbles into the Head common room, feeling worn down; all he's thinking about is taking a quick shower and falling into bed. He carefully picks his way through the dark room, his only illumination being the dying embers of the fire and the light of the full moon, streaming in from one of the large windows to his left. He's halfway to his dormitory when he hears a small whimper to his right and he spins around, peering into the darkness.

"Lily?" he whispers softly, pushing his square glasses up the brim of his nose.

She turns to look at him, her eyes shining like two emeralds in the glow of the small fire besides her and she grins as she raises a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky in greeting.

"Potter!" she slurs a little too loudly, so un-Lilylike.

"Evans, are you—are you drunk?" James asks, even though the answer is obvious, because all he has to do is look at her bloodshot eyes and the bottle of Firewhisky gripped firmly in her hand.

"Lily Evans does not get drunk!" she says, her voice still a pitch too loud and she throws her head back and laughs freely, not her usual tinkling laughter. "Maybe a bit tipsy, but not _drunk_."

She stands up then and she's unsteady on her feet as she picks her way to him and she stumbles, the bottle falling out of her grasp as she does. James rushes to her before she falls, placing a hand on her waist without thinking. She throws her arms around his neck and he can smell her now and she smells strongly of liquor, not her usual lilac fragrance.

"What are you doing out so late, Potter? Out shagging some random slag, I expect," she says, and for a minute, James thinks he's heard bitterness in her voice, but he brushes it away, because he's sure he's just imagined it.

"I'd rather know why you're so drunk," he says, trying to keep his breath steady as he ignores the fast beating of his heart.

"Like you don't already know," she whispers and before James can question what she's meant, her lips crash against his.

And then she's kissing him and her lips are urgent against his, almost desperate, and James kisses her back, forgetting himself for a moment, torn in between what is right and what he _wants_.

He can taste the alcohol on her lips, her tongue and it's invading his senses, clouding his mind. And he takes her in, and he feels like he's drowning and he smells the pungent odour of hard liquor around her and that is all it takes for him to come crashing back down to reality. He pulls away from her and he swears it's the hardest thing he's ever had to do because he's dreamt of this moment for the past three-years, but he knows, in his heart, that it is the right thing to do.

Because he wouldn't be James Potter if he allowed himself to take advantage of the girl he's claimed to love, ever since their fourth-year, in her drunken-stupor.

She burrows her brow in frustration as she reaches up to him again, but James turns his head to the left and she kisses his cheek instead.

"No, Evans," he says and his voice sounds much less confident than he would like it to sound; he can hear the hesitation in his voice. "I can't."

She laughs, a scornful laugh, angrily brushing away the tears that James hadn't realised where there. "Of course you can't. You already got what you wanted, didn't you, _Potter_?"

James frowns, not understanding what she means as he rubs a hand across his tired face and he can feel his frustration rising. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Potter. That's all you ever wanted, wasn't it? Everyone else said it wasn't, that I was being stupid for not listening. But I should've listened to myself when I had the chance. I wouldn't be in this mess if I had. You are a complete arsehole," she hisses, stabbing her finger against his chest accusingly.

"What the hell are you going on about?" he says, not bothering to hide his irritation as he brushes his hands through his hair.

She glares at him with so much anger and contempt that, for a moment, James thinks she's about to strike him, but she doesn't.

"That's how it works, isn't it? First you get the girl to fall in love with you and when she finally does, you dump her, like a worthless piece of trash, not worthy of a second thought."

Her voice is low, yet venomous all the same as she continues glaring at him and all James can do is stare, because of all the things he expected her to say, this was not one of them.

"It was just all a game to you, wasn't it? See how long it took you to get Lily Evans to fall for you? Well, congratulations, Potter, you finally did. I hope you're happy," she says, her voice breaking in the end and she falls to her knees.

Her red curls fall around her, shielding her face from his view, but he can tell she's crying by the way her shoulders are shaking and James doesn't hate anyone any more than he hates himself right now. "I wish I didn't love you, but I do. And I hate myself because of it," she whispers in a defeated voice.

James falls to his knees beside her, pushing her chin up gently as he brushes her hair away from her face. She looks at him and James can see the anger that had been blazing behind those green eyes just a minute ago has dissipated, leaving in its place overwhelming sadness. And he doesn't know what to say to make it better, because James Potter has never been any good with words.

And if he can't tell her how much she means to him, he can at least _show_ her.

He slowly closes the gap between them, keeping his eyes trained on Lily, before pressing his lips softly against hers. The kiss is chaste and tentative, so unlike their first kiss a few minutes earlier. He can feel Lily arms' snake around his neck as she reaches up to him, pressing her body against his. James places his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he deepens the kiss.

He doesn't know if she'll remember anything in the morning, but he ignores it, ignores the fact that it's probably wrong to kiss her in her drunken state. Because, all morals aside, she's _Lily Evans_, the same girl he's been in love with for most of his Hogwarts years and he's been dreaming of this moment for too long.

So, he loses himself in the moment, trying to convey everything he's been holding back for the past three years in that single kiss, hoping that when she wakes, things won't go back to the way they were.

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_A/N: Yeah, I don't really know how I feel about this one, either. But, it was something I had to write down, before it kept nagging me any further. Oh well! Maybe not my best, but it's definitely not my worst, right?_

_Anyway, quick question to those of you who've managed to read all the way down here without getting bored and closing the window: should I leave this as a oneshot? Or perhaps continue on with it? I think I could manage to make this into a Chapter story, but I want to know your opinion on it and if any of you are interested in reading more. _

_Cheers,_

_-TheGreyLadyy_


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